Monday, March 9, 2009


March 9th, 2009

I'm just not content to have a plain existence. I want colour, I want vibrancy, no straight lines.

When will it be right? When will I figure out how to convey, how to say it? How to deliniate it perfectly in my mind? Will you understand it when I do?

Will this anxious feeling be forever?

I am a flying bird, a yellow one, arching higher in the last orange rays of the aching sun. I can feel the wind in my feathers, I close my eyes and feel the sensation of soaring, of freedom, the playground of light and beauty, the orange light caressing, brightening, making me alive.

I am a flying bird.